Musings of a Gentler Time; Volume 2

When my family moved from South Carolina to Georgia, Pat was my next-door neighbor.  I loved her like the older sister I never had and would have traded her for my little brother in a heartbeat.

I left all my high school friends in South Carolina and sulked my way through classes in Georgia.  Pat was aware that no one was going to push me into socializing unless she did.  So, she said, “Delane, it’s time you started dating!”  She arranged a blind date (double date, of course) with her friend’s younger brother, who attended a different high school than mine.

I was awkward, and my etiquette skills were non-existent, so my date had to race with me just to open the car door.  He introduced me to the couple in the back seat, and we began our drive.  The girl was beautiful but must have bathed in perfume and hairspray.  Those were the days of highly-teased hair, shellacked enough with hairspray to withstand a popup EF3 tornado … but I digress.   My allergies kicked in, causing my eyes to tear and my nose to run.  I didn’t dare roll down the window for fear it would justify to her another application of hairspray. So, I tried to breathe as shallowly as possible while engaging in interesting chitchat.

Mother always said to wear clean underwear in case you’re in a wreck and to also have an ample supply of tissues in your purse (I’m not going to share the “why” on that one!)  Many thanks to good old Mom.  I was ready to mop all tears and to present myself appropriately at the emergency room … IF … my date wrecked the car when blinded by my glowing allergy-induced red nose!

My heart sank when my date said we were going bowling.  I confessed to him that I was just a little directionally challenged and maybe slightly impaired when it came to spatial navigation; in other words, I wasn’t much of a bowler.  Being the gentleman he was, he said not to worry because he wasn’t either.  When we arrived, I walked with him around to the back of his car, where he proceeded to get his PERSONAL BOWLING BALL and SHOES out of the trunk!

I felt sicker than before. You might think I was intimidated by his evident advanced bowling skills.  But the truth is … I couldn’t stand the thought of putting my feet into shoes that were growing goodness-knows-what kind of infectious disease.  The need to “blend in” was more substantial than I thought, and I tied the laces on the two Petri dishes, also known as rental bowling shoes.  I hit at least four pins on my first turn and threw gutter balls on all subsequent approaches to our lane and, accidentally, the ones on either side.

I blanked out after that and didn’t remember anything else about that date or the young man, except that he was a perfect gentleman and overlooked my many shortcomings. Despite everything mentioned above, I was so blessed to have experienced a wonderful “first” date.

Dating, for me, was a wonderful innocent experience.  The freedom to go places without my parents and to meet so many new people still fills my mind with good memories.  A few years ago, I had the pleasure of receiving a phone call from a young man I dated so long ago.  The years faded away as we spoke of funny incidents and people from our past, including his friend, who was also my first date.  Before the call ended, my friend said, “do you know what I remember most about you, Delane?” My mind raced as I thought, maybe my sense of humor or my love of music and dancing.  He laughed and said, “you had the worst sense of direction of anyone I ever met!”

(Excerpt from a collection of life stories, “I Will Sing to Them Again in Heaven” by Delane Melton)